


Not for the First Time in his Life, Geralt can’t Fucking Sleep

by Sywitxher



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Abandonment, Big Brother Geralt of Rivia, Bisexual Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bisexual Jaskier | Dandelion, Bisexual Yennefer of Vengerberg, Ciri is a cute jealous brat, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It’s not written but it’s there, Jaskier is just along for the ride, M/M, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Not a lot of sex yet but maybe later, Panic Attacks, Trauma Recovery, Yennefer wants to be a mom again, no beta we die like witchers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22686064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sywitxher/pseuds/Sywitxher
Summary: Things have finally settled for their little family, but Geralt has one more secret keeping him awake at night. Kaer Morhen’s best kept secret.I have a lot of this written already, and will update as often as I can, if people are feelin it! I don’t really wrote fics often but I’ve been writing this for a friend of mine and thought I’d share.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Original Female Character(s), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It’s about time Geralt stopped keeping things from the people he loves the most.

Not for the first time in his life, Geralt can’t fucking sleep.

For the time being, Cirilla was safe and happy with him and his lovers. They were a family. She was well protected and well cared for. Geralt should have been at ease. But he couldn't bring himself to relax. He sat up in bed and looked over at Yen and Jaskier sleeping peacefully, cuddling one another. 

With a deep sigh, he moved to stand by the window. Staring at the town they had settled in, Geralt desperately wished that he could just- go. 

Run until he found her. 

But he knew he couldn’t. He hadn’t been able to look for her since Jaskier first met him, out of fear of someone discovering her. Before that, is was constantly searching. Taking contracts yes, but it always had a higher purpose. For decades he searched for her. Since the night Kaer Morhren was sacked. He put her on a horse, not even her own, and told her to hide- and hide who she was. Her medallion could change some aspects of her appearance. She should change her hair, white as snow like his, and her eyes. Witcher’s eyes. Witcher’s eyes, but emerald. He promised he would find her again. Kaer Morhen’s best kept secret.

Syviis was the only female witcher to exist. The first and the last of her kind, and Vesemir had been charged with her training. Naturally, he enlisted Geralt to assist, as she had been born of the same parents. Geralt remembered little of Visenna, but what he did hadn’t mattered for a long time. For a while at Kaer Morhen he dreamt about her. Missed her. Thought there was no way she would have willingly done as she did. He was a child surprise, what could be done? But Syviis, she was no child surprise. She should have been protected. Should never have had to endure the Trials as he did. 

From the day she arrived and was given to Vesemir, Geralt vowed he would always be at her side, loving and protecting her in a way he never received. He always had a soft spot for her, anyway. She saw sides of him no one had ever seen. Not even his family.

At the flashing thought of the people he loved, he turned around to find Jaskier awake, lazily drawing circles on a sleeping Yennefer’s back. “Something is bothering you,” Jask said matter-of-factly. “Something serious. You haven’t slept in days. Don’t think we haven’t noticed. Even Ciri asked if you were okay. ‘Of course he is!’ I told her. But I know you, Geralt. Something is really wrong, isn’t it.”

There was no question in the rambling. Jakier did know Geralt. 

“Hmm,” Geralt growled, in true form. “Yes.”

Jaskier stared at him blankly for a long moment. “Well, when you want to talk, you know we will be here to listen. We love you as you are Geralt, but you’re not much of a talker. We’d like to be there for you.”

Geralt closed his eyes. He had felt an enormous amount of guilt hiding this from his family. Especially given that he trusted them with his life. He just doesn't trust anyone with her life, not even himself. But he knew that even though it had been decades, he still needed to find her. He’d never stopped silently searching, watching for her. But when Kaer Morhen fell, she hadn’t completed her training. Geralt had held her through every illness and sick moment during her Trials. Some different than even he endured. Geralt hadn’t refused to teach her, just been overly wary about her training, and therefore it was limited. But through the years… she had to have picked up something, right? He knew she wasn’t dead, he had to know that. And it was time he found her. It was time to tell his loves.

“Wake up Yen,” Geralt resigned. Jaskier looked at him with concern. He’d never heard such a broken tone come from his love. “This can’t wait.”

Geralt told them- everything about her. Explained why he hid her, and deeply regretted hiding something like this when they could have instead helped him. They stared at him, then looked at each other. Geralt looked down. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He expected silence, or harsh words. He never expected what came. Soft kisses, all over his hands and face. He looked up and met Yen’s lavender eyes. “Then let’s find her. We will leave early in the morning. We WILL find her, Geralt. I promise you.”

Geralt slept more soundly that night than he had in a long while.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search begins!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna post a couple chapters to get it started! They felt a lot longer while I was writing so I’ll try to adjust my chapter breaks accordingly!

“This is so exciting!” Ciri cried, practically bouncing up and down on roach in front of Geralt, Jaskier and Yen riding Aderon. “I can’t believe I have an aunt! I bet she’s so pretty, isn’t she?” Ciri tilted her head up a little to look at Geralt.

“Yes. She’s lovely. You’ll like her, Ciri.” Geralt said distractedly. That was all true, of the sister he left behind. It had been many years, and Geralt wondered who she was now. Was she still his Syviis?

“Cirilla, please stop bouncing on Roach. You’ll hurt her back. I can’t believe I’m the one saying something! Geralt, are you in there? Hellooooo?” Jaskier rumbled loudly. 

Geralt snapped back to reality. “Ciri, sit still.”

Ciri groaned. “But-”

“No.” Geralt shot down her protest. He loved Cirilla, but he couldn’t focus right now. She pouted and sat distinctly still. He felt bad. This wasn’t Cirilla’s fault, it was his own. He’d given up on her, no one else. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her Roach’s reigns. “Here, why don’t you lead?” He added gently.

She eased back into him, clearly accepting the apology he offered. It was quiet for a long moment, the only noise from the four being Jaskier’s humming of ‘Toss a Coin to your Witcher’. Cirilla took a deep breath. “Father?”

“Hmm.”

“Will you… tell me about her?”

Geralt paused, then smiled. He told her every story he could think of. Hours passed and still he talked. Yen smiled fondly listening to them with Jaskier sleeping on her back. She recalled a memory, and giggled a little.

“Every time I’m around you I say more in five minutes than I’ve said in weeks! And I always regret it!”

Yen supposed it must have hurt Geralt deeply, to pretend he didn’t have a sister. To let Ciri and his family take priority over her. She wondered if he would ever really forgive himself for not finding her. He’d told them that he searched for her for decades. He went to Kaer Morhen every winter hoping she would have the sense to come back. But, the stories Geralt told Yen and Jaskier were… sometimes darker than the ones he was telling Cirilla now. 

“She… she wasn’t well liked. There were the few of us that… protected her. You have to remember, Kaer Mohren wasn’t a kind place to grow up for any of us, let alone a young girl. She was properly tormented. For years. Everything from rape to being forced to eat disgusting things. Those of us who trained specifically under Vesemir, well we protected her. Tried our best anyway. She would wake up in the night with screaming terrors. I… I was never very affectionate, growing up. And I was mostly grown up when she arrived. I was finished with my training, but I couldn’t leave her. It felt like… I needed to keep her safe. From everything. I held her through her Trials and I cradled her through her poison illnesses. She always had a smile for me. She would sing to me. Sometimes Lambert or Eskel also, even Vesemir. She would sing to us when she was at her lowest. I remember one time… she started screaming in the middle of the night. She was around 15. Others had started to notice her. I ran to her room to find a group of particularly nasty boys still in their Trials standing over her. They’d stripped her and had… sawed off chair legs in her. She was pinned to the floor and bleeding everywhere. Gagged by… gods, I don’t even want to say it. It was horrifying. They were all properly taken care of, of course. I held her in a bath while she cried, and she sang. She fucking sang. She slept with me every night after that. Up until… well, you know. Gods I don’t even know how she’s slept all these years. You adapt, I suppose. It’s my fault. I should have looked harder right after. But I wanted her to be safe. She wouldn’t be the moment anyone found out what she was. We don’t know much about her, really. We know she can do everything I can do. But some things affected her differently. More. She went through extra Trials, experimentation. We still don’t know why they created a female Witcher. She… gods, I have to find her.”

“Yen?” Jaskier sleepily asked from behind her. “You okay? You got kind of tense there for a moment.”

Yennifer looked back at Jaskier and smiled gently. “Go back to sleep, my dandelion. I believe our good Geralt would like to ride through the night tonight. Is that right, my love?”

Geralt’s eyes turned to her. “That’s right. We are too far from anywhere safe. Besides, the next town we hit we can stay there for a few days. I’ve heard they have contracts.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What a Tavern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, this is hella non-canon compliant. Will adjust tags accordingly :-)
> 
> Let me know any and all thoughts you have! I’m more or less new to writing, this is just a fun project for a friend, but I’m getting really into it. Always accepting constructive criticism & ideas!! There’s been a request for a similar vibe but Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier, so when that goes up check it out!

They searched for her for weeks without going home. They were almost to Kaer Morhen, about a days ride left. Geralt felt it about time for his loves and daughter to meet his Witcher brothers. Another day and that would be the reality. Geralt wasn’t excited though. He never enjoyed being there without her. She was like a ghost, memories lingered everywhere. The good, and the bad.

Yen, Jaskier, and Ciri tried their absolute best to keep his spirits up. This evening, as they sat in a tavern, Geralt was particularly grumpy. Cirilla sat reading a book Yennifer had bought for her, while Jaskier stared into space writing a new song. Yennifer was staring at Geralt while he had his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose harshly.

“My love,” she whispered to him, quiet enough with the background noise of the tavern that no one else could hear. “Geralt.”

“Hmm.”

“Geralt, you can’t give up.”

He looked up at her and sighed, “It’s too late. She must be dead. What other option would she have?” They had heard rumors of a red haired beauty travelling alone through the swamps, the locals assumed her to be a succubus. Geralt had hoped that it was her. “The trail is cold. I just need to accept it. It’s over. I am never going to see her again.”

Yennifer had never seen Geralt look so defeated. But she stared back in silence, not wanting a fight. Jaskier had started singing in full force now, and when people started whispering about the Witcher sitting in the corner, he began to sing his favorite song he had written.

“Toss a coin to your Witcher, O’ Valley of Plenty, O-O-O,” He bellowed, drawing a crowd. 

It was then that Geralt noticed the cloaked figure slip into the tavern. He narrowed his eyes. He forced himself to calm down. He knew better than anyone that just because someone had a cloak on and wished to remain hidden that didn’t make them a threat. He was just tense.

“An ale, please,” he heard a voice request gently, and his head snapped up. That voice was eerily familiar. “Just that, for now, thank you.”

He could barely hear her over the sound of his bard singing his praises. Jaskier started in on ‘The Song of the White Wolf’, and Geralt watched her closely. Jaskier sang the song knowing it didn’t bother his Witcher. 

“Born of Kaer Morhen... Born of no love…” Jaskier continued, and in that moment Geralt caught a flash of something that confirmed what he hadn’t dared to think too hard yet. The cloaked figure’s head snapped towards Jaskier but it was too dark for Geralt to see much except the fire in her eyes and the fire of her hair. It was her. 

Geralt sat, frozen as he just watched her drink her ale. She drank like he did. She didn’t used to drink at all, per Geralt’s orders. She clearly hadn’t noticed him sitting there, in the dark corner, but after looking around and apparently seeing no danger, she took down her hood. Sloppy of her, Geralt thought harshly before dismissing the overprotective thought. Time froze as he stared at her. She hadn’t aged much, but the poise of her entire being was that of a woman who needed no one, and was confident in who she was. Geralt’s stomach was warm with pride, but he remained still, making no moves to attract her attention. So much so that he didn’t notice Cirilla, who followed his gaze and landed on the girl. It was so clear by the way he tensely watched her that it was her. Cirilla made eye contact with her mother and other father, who sat staring at Geralt in his dark corner. 

Cirilla shrugged and promptly got up and began walking towards the girl. Geralt noticed then and growled. Fuck.

“Excuse me,” Cirilla tapped on the girl’s thigh, as she sat on a high chair at the counter. “May I trouble you for a moment?”

Syviis looked down at her and smiled softly. Geralt relaxed only a little. She was still the girl he knew, just stronger now. “What can I do for you, little one?”

“You see, my father over there, the bard?” Cirilla paused to make sure she was following, Syviis nodded, a small smile and hum escaping her. Geralt tensed and Yen and Jask looked at Cirilla nervously. Where was she going with this? “Well, I noticed your reaction to his song. He didn’t, but I was wondering why you had that reaction.”  
Syviis looked at her curiously for a moment, then up at Jaskier who was gaping at his child. “I had that reaction because the song is wrong.”

“It’s wrong?”

Geralt tensed and grabbed Yen’s hand under the table, not moving so as to keep his position hidden. She hadn’t noticed him yet and he wanted to see how this conversation played out. Syviis could be skittish and he didn’t want to scare her off. 

“Yes, it’s wrong.”

Cirilla looked back at her parents and smirked before continuing. “What’s wrong? Do you know who the song is about?”

Syviis’ smile dropped a little, then brightened again. “The Witcher, the one they call the White Wolf. Geralt. Of Rivia.”

“Do you know him? Geralt?”

Syviis paused. “Yes. Though they didn’t call him the White Wolf then. So I suppose I should say I used to know him.” Syviis took a moment, and looked directly at Cirilla. “I’m just... a fan.”

Cirilla didn’t miss a beat. “And what about the song was wrong? If you’ve never known him as the White Wolf then how can you know it’s wrong?”

Syviis’ expression changed to slight wariness. Geralt squeezed Yen’s hand tighter. Cirilla was taking this too far. “You are awfully defensive of your bard father’s songs, aren’t you little one?”

Cirilla flashed a big grin at her and Syviis relaxed again. Geralt as well. “You could say I’m also a fan of this Witcher. I’m just curious to learn more about him. What was wrong in the song?”

Syviis looked sad, but only for a moment before she put back up her hardened resolve. “Kaer Morhen.”

“Kaer Morhen was wrong? What about it?”

“He wasn’t born of no love. The Witcher. There was love at Kaer Morhen. Not much, but it was there.”

Cirilla was quiet for a long moment, then quietly asked, “How do you know?”

Syviis stared at her ale, silent.  
Cirilla continued, “There were no females at Kaer Morhen. So you couldn’t have been there. I mean, girls can’t be Witchers.”

Syviss looked at her and quickly answered, “Right. Girls can’t be Witchers. The very notion. Ha!” she tried to deflect the conversation.

Ciri wouldn’t let her though. “So then, how do you know?”

Syviis didn’t know how to answer. Not really. So she didn’t. “You know, I’m not so sure your parents approve of you speaking to me. They’ve been staring at us since we started talking. You should go back to them.”

Geralt flinched. She noticed him then. Though she couldn’t see it was him, she now knew someone was sitting in the dark. She quickly pulled out her coin and paid for the ale. “Excuse me, I must get going.” She was out the door before Cirilla could even say something.

Cirilla turned around, tears welling in her eyes as she ran back to her parents. Geralt stood and started moving to the door. “Father, I’m so sorry!” she cried, “I thought I was being clever, I didn’t know she’d run!”

Geralt kissed the top of her head but didn’t have time to say anything. He moved quickly out the door and started for Roach, stopping when he saw her.

Syviis was standing with Roach, mouth open and tears welling in her eyes. “Roach… if you’re here, then….”

Geralt breathed heavily. Quietly, almost in a whisper, he breathed, “Syviis.”

She turned, not too slowly and not too quickly, with her mouth still open in shock, and then burst into the biggest smile he’d ever seen from her. She didn’t say anything, but walked up to him, still smiling, and reached out a soft hand to touch his face, his hair, his chest, still covered in armor, and landing on his Witcher medallion. 

She lifted it gently off his chest and looked at it. When her head moved up, she locked eyes with him for only a moment before her hands were around his neck in a tight embrace. He held her close to his chest, breathing in her scent and running his hands through her hair. 

When she finally lifted up, she was grinning. “Took you long enough, didn’t it, White Wolf?” She snickered. “I’m guessing you know sunshine hair in the tavern? The ever inquisitive little one?”

Geralt smiled warmly. “My daughter.”

Syviis pulled back gasping. “Daughter?”  
“Child surprise.”

“She said the bard was her father, I assumed the sorceress was her mother.”

“Both true.”

“So… you not only found love, White Wolf,” she laughed again. “But you found it more than once, and a child surprise too! Oh, how interested Eskel will be!”

Geralt looked at her inquisitively but didn’t say anything. 

“Well, I was on my way home. I haven’t been back in years. I stayed close, but you told me not to go back, so I didn’t.”

“You listened to me?”

“I always listen to you!”

Geralt laughed at that. “Cheeky little shit. You listened to fuck all.” He looked at her again, going serious. “You shouldn’t go alone. Stay with us, we will join you in the morning.”

She smiled at him. “I’d hoped you would say that.”

“Let’s go back inside, it’s about time we all retired for the night, anyway, and I know they’d all love to meet you.”

“Lovely. Oh, and Geralt?” She said as they started walking inside, “You could use a bath.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleeeeepy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heck it imma just post everything I have and y’all can just let me know if you like it & should continue!

When they stepped into the room in the inn, Jaskier was lounging and singing to Cirilla, who was in a bath, Yennefer helping her wash her hair out. Cirilla smiled and cried, “Father!”

Syviis watched as Geralt moved quickly over to her to give her a kiss on the top of her wet head. “Ciri, this is Syviis. My sister.”

Cirilla flashed that same big innocent grin at her. “I’m so glad to meet you!”

Syviis smiled, her heart warming. “Lovely to meet you as well, little one.” She used a pet name Geralt used to call her. He looked at her then, and he finally relaxed. She was there. Safe. Happy. With him. He had everything he ever really wanted.

Syviis shifted awkwardly, not really sure what to do then. Jaskier noticed and jumped in. “So! A woman Witcher. I would love to write a song about your epic tales of bravery, should you let me.” Geralt growled and started to say something but Jaskier beat him to it, “Calm yourself, my dear garotter, it would be only for us! Me, Jaskier, our wife, Yennefer, and Cirilla.”

Syviis smiled, joining him in sitting on the second bed in the room. “Well, as lovely as that thought is, there isn't really too much to tell. I stayed with a group of druids in the woods, for a time, near Kaer Morhen. An earth nymph who lived with them even wrote a song about me once.”

“How interesting! What was it about?”

“A prick that tried to own me.”

Geralt laughed out loud at that. “Care to explain?” He said, lying behind Jaskier.

Syviis laughed too, but Geralt noticed the intense emotion in her eyes. Something had really happened there. Again he felt a pang of guilt wracking his body. He should have been there. “It’s… maybe a story for another time. Ryza tells it best anyway, in her song,” Syviis looked away, smiling and blushing softly.

Geralt picked up on it, as did Jask, saying, “Well, I for one hope to meet this delightful Ryza and hear this mysterious story in the future.”

“The near future, maybe,” Geralt added, smiling.

Syviis looked at them both, chuckling to herself. “Perhaps you’re right. It would be lovely to visit. There’s an elven mage there- not many of them left- he helped me when I was with them.”

“Helped you?”

“Yes. He knew right away what I was, Geralt. I didn’t tell him anything. He… knew something, of Witchers. Very little, mind you, but he helped me… experiment.”

Geralt sat up then. “Experiment? You mean…”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“I know now how to make a few elixirs. Only a few. Roughly, but they do the trick, when I’m in a pinch. A few signs. A few more than the ones you’d taught me, anyway.”

“What signs do you know now, then?”

Syviis looked at him inquisitively. “Geralt, would you train me again? Properly this time?”

Geralt ignored her question, knowing she knew the answer already. Yennefer was listening too. “What signs then?”

“Aard, you’d taught me. Though it only works about half the time. I’m not very good at that one.”

“We’ll work on that. What else?”

“Quen. I’m alright with that one.”

“Any others?”

“Yes. Igni. I’m… particularly adept with that one. I like fire. Glycen said I’m a natural. He even offered to teach me to become a mage. An extra threat, he called it.”

Geralt narrowed his eyes a bit, curious. Yennefer chimed in then. “Do you want to become a mage?”

“I don’t know. I should probably master what I was created for first. Doubt I have any chance of succeeding in magic if I can’t even cast an Aard sign correctly.”

Geralt tensed when she mentioned having been ‘created’. He closed his eyes and lay back. Cirilla was finished with her bath, and it was nearly time for them to retire.

Syviis started to lay out a thin sheet she had on the floor, laying down on it. “What are you doing?” Yennefer asked. “You’re not sleeping on the floor, you can take that bed.”

Syviis hesitated, “No, thank you, it’s alright… I don’t sleep well. Some nights not at all.”

Geralt looked at her, and walked over, took the sheet from her and without a word, laid down in the second bed. 

Syviis rolled her eyes. “Geralt. I’m not a child anymore. You don’t have to hold my hand,” she laughed dismissively.

“You still get them, don’t you? The night terrors?”

Her smile fell, her eyes hardening for just a moment before she remembered who she was talking to. How many nights he’d been by her side to comfort the screams and sweating in the middle of the night. “Well, yes, but-”

“Come on. There’s no use fighting it. You don’t have to handle this alone anymore.”

“Geralt, I’ve been handling this on my own for years now. I promise I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.”

“But you don’t always have to.” Geralt looked over at Yen after he said it, remembering when he’d said that to her. She smiled at him.

“Geralt.” He looked back at his sister, who had a wary look over to the other three, Cirilla already asleep between his loves.

“Syviis.” he countered, pushing her to listen to him.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and Geralt swore he saw the trembling of her lip, but she quickly suppressed it. His heart was torn between pride that she could handle her emotions at least a little better, and sadness that she felt she had to around him and his family. But he understood.

She got in the bed, and curled into a ball, at least a foot away from him, but facing him. They looked at each other for a moment before he moved his hand to stroke some hair on the side of her head. She relaxed more. For all she tried to resist it in front of his family, and he knew that was why, he knew her and knew that she would feel much better if she just let him hold her. But she wouldn’t do that. Because she was stronger than before. She had listened to him in those moments when he tried desperately to teach her that weakness meant death. Now, he wished to himself that he had seen that that wasn’t true, not all the time. He wished he hadn’t pushed her to this hardened point. She was still the same girl, who sang with him while he held her bloodied and bruised after an attack, but he was going to have to pull it out of her.

They laid that way, him petting the side of her head, her eyes closed, brows furrowed, for a long time. When the sounds of heavy breathing finally came, and they knew the three in the other bed were finally asleep, he moved closer to her. She relaxed even more, instead of fighting it. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered to her. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore. I’ll train you, and I will never leave you again. You can let yourself relax. If you have terrors, I’ll be right here to quell them. You’re not alone anymore.”

She didn’t say anything, but a few stray tears slipped out while she fell deeper into sleep. “I have missed you so much.”

Sh let him embrace her then, pulling her to his chest , and promptly fell into a deep sleep. Geralt let himself sleep, too. That night, the night terrors never came.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Kaer Morhen folks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always let me know your thoughts!!

The next morning, they set off for Kaer Morhen. Cirilla was excited, riding with Yen on Aderon, while Jaskier sat on Roach. Syviis and Geralt were walking alongside, despite Geralt’s protests that she should ride. 

Jaskier was busy composing a song. He was always composing new songs. It was one of Geralt’s favorite things about him. 

Syviis walked quietly beside him, content with a small smile naturally on her face. Geralt looked over at her and held his gaze, watching her eyes shift from side to side, looking for threats, as he’d taught her. It was cold, so he watched her breath flow from her lips as if she were a dragon. That’s how she used to describe it. He watched her hair bounce with each step she took, like fire. She turned and caught him, grinning. He chuckled under his breath and looked back forward. 

She leaned against him as they walked, after that. “Geralt?” She asked quietly.

“Yes?” He responded, equally as quiet, resting his hand on the small of her back.

“Do you think… who do you think might be there?”

Geralt took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

“Did you ever go back, in the winter?”

“Yes.”

She tensed for a moment, and then relaxed, and Geralt knew it was taking all of her strength to not be hurt by that. “Who was usually there then?”

“Vesemir. Eskel, usually. Sometimes Lambert. No one else. Vesemir stays there. He will be around. Other than that it… it’s quiet.”

Syviis smiled. She’d hoped that would be the case. 

Geralt continued. “Are… are you sure that you’d like to go back? I- well we all thought you were dead. They will be excited to see you, whoever is there. And probably fairly upset with me.”

“Upset with you? Why?” 

“It was my responsibility to protect you. Keep you safe. I didn’t do a very good job of that.” He frowned.   
She pressed a little closer to his side and looked up at him, chin resting on his upper arm. “Geralt. That’s water under the bridge. We’re here now, together again. Im safe and alive, if not a little worse for wear,” she flashed a grin. “And I learned my own… unconventional ways to survive. Learned through trial and error how to live. There were, of course, times that I missed you deeply. When Glycen was training me, I missed you then. The first few weeks on my own, were particularly lonely. I thought of you every night. There were times that I would look up at the sky and watch the stars, hoping to see one fall, to make a silly wish that you’d find me. But… I think it was all for the better, don’t you? At Kaer Morhen I wasn’t exactly the strongest I could have been. Part of that is because I relied on you too much. You pushed me, yes, but you were also there for me when I fell. When I was bruised, broken, beaten. When I was alone, I had to learn to take care of myself. To clean and dress my own wounds, and fight my own battles, whether that be with a nasty boy who thought himself man enough to teach me the ways of the world in a tavern, or a ghoul that wanted the deer I’d cooked for dinner. I got strong. Because I had to.”

Geralt frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I should’ve been making you strong long before then. That was my job.”

“No. Your job was to be my brother. And you were. I would’ve gotten strong. Slowly, but you would have taught me. This way, it was just an accelerated course of study.” She smiled and wrapped her hands around his free arm.

“I wish the world hadn’t hardened you so much. I wanted you to get to be a little girl. I wished that so desperately for you.”

“Geralt, I was never meant to be a little girl. I was meant for something more. Much more. We both were. Even if we were created by fear.”

Geralt met her eyes then, and leaned over and kissed her on top of her head. “I will always be with you now. You’ll always be able to find me. I won’t keep you with us, if you don’t want to be. You can live. You deserve that.”

She pulled her head back and frowned. “But, I do. Want to stay with you, that is. Being alone is a dreadful existence and doesn't suit me.” She hesitated, “If you’ll have me, that is.”

“Yes.”

They approached the wards surrounding the front of Kaer Morhen and Syviis tensed just a little. They could see the doors, only a few feet away. “Geralt…”

“I know.” He handed her the reigns to Roach, Jaskier still on her back, and she took a deep breath. She walked them through the shimmering wards with ease. She looked back at Geralt hesitating. “You ready?”

She tied Roach up and grabbed her sword. She knew as well as Geralt that both Yen and Ciri would set off the wards due to their magic. Geralt drew his sword as well, and moved quickly through the wards with them, in an immediate defensive position, back to back with Syviis. 

It was a routine they knew well, because they had spent years learning it together. They fought the blasts of fire that came, Geralt throwing signs up, and Syviis attempting as well. Jaskier, Yen, and Ciri watched from behind them on their horses. Jaskier noted that the two fighting together looked very much like a dance. What Syviis lacked in strength, she made up for in sheer agility and confidence. Geralt’s style was tried and true, and Jaskier was very familiar with it. He could see some of Geralt in Syviis in that moment, but she also had a clearly distinct style of her own. She looked… ethereal. 

She swung at the arrows that were shooting at them, Geralt throwing up Quen and Igni. He turned and started fighting off the arrows himself as well. A noise came from the left and Syviis looked over at it, making the exact mistake the wards wanted her to. The arrow came quickly and sliced into her shoulder. She groaned, not screaming, and bit her lip, continuing to swing her sword until the last defense fell. 

Geralt walked to her calmly. She was bent down on her knees, her forehead touching the ground, arm clutching her shoulder. “I need to take that out.”

She moaned, “I’ve got it.”

He grunted, clearly not happy, but stepped back. She sat up, and pulled a small bit of cloth out of her pocket, stuffing it into her mouth. She grasped the arrow with her free arm, the other hand dug deeply into the ground. She took one deep breath, closed her eyes, and yanked on the arrow.

She screamed and bit down on the piece of cloth. Her eyes flew open and tears streamed out. She looked helplessly at Geralt, breathing heavily and shaking. The arrow hadn’t completely come out. He kneeled down to her and grabbed her shoulders. She whimpered softly. He steadied the free shoulder with one arm and grabbed the arrow with the other. Her free arm clung to his wrist, gripping tightly. He looked her in the eyes, and softly questioned, “Are you ready?” Her eyes hardened with strength and she nodded fiercely. She tensed and took a deep breath, and he pulled. 

Her hand flug to hold her open wound but Geralt caught it and held it steady, reaching into his waist bag at the same time, pulling out a small vial of elixir. He pulled the fabric out of her mouth and immediately began to pour the contents of the bottle into her mouth, stopping toward the end, then without ceremony poured the rest on her wound. She gasped and cried out softly, holding her position, clearly attempting to be strong so he wouldn’t see how badly that had really hurt her.

Without thinking or really asking, he growled and picked her up. “Follow me in, there’s no more danger here.” He said to his family on their horses.

Cirilla looked scared, “Is she going to be okay, father?”

Gerlt smiled at her. “She’ll be just fine, Ciri.”

They walked forward, Syviis grunting in pain from time to time. They reached the door and she extended her foot in front of them to kick it open. When they walked inside, she shivered despite the warm fires, and pressed into Geralt’s chest. 

A quick movement from the right and suddenly there was a sword at Geralt’s throat. He snapped his head up and made eye contact with the offender, quickly breaking into a grin when he met Lambert’s eyes.

“Brother!” Lambert cried. “Welcome home!”

“It’s great to see you as well, brother. I-”

“Lambert!” Syviis cried, lifting her head from her brother’s chest.

“Gods! You’re- you’re alive!” He blanched, then moved quickly to throw some blankets on the table, so Geralt could comfortably lay her down. 

“Geralt, I’m fine, I can walk, you know. I can take care of myself.” She attempted to swat his hands away with her own but Geralt caught them and growled.

“But again, you don’t always have to, not anymore.”

They stared at each other for a moment, before she shifted her gaze to Lambert. “You know, Geralt has a whole family now,” She looked over at them, standing sort of awkwardly at the door.

Geralt laughed and left Syviis’ side for a moment to walk over and kiss his loves, as well as Ciri’s forehead.

Lambert whispered to Syviis, “The great White Wolf isn’t alone anymore, eh?” he winked at her and she giggled. 

“Guess not. Is Eskel here? Ves?”

“Yes to both. But don’t let him hear you call him Ves. You know he hates it.”

“As a cat hates a witcher,” she grinned at him, reaching up to hug him before inhaling sharply and thinking better of it. Her shoulder was still healing, she needed to take it easy.

After some quick introductions, Geralt went to begin preparing a meal for them all, while Yen set to work with some healing herbs for Syviis.

Eskel walked in then, grinning when he saw Syviis smile at him, but then immediately following it up with a frown when he saw her shoulder. “What happened, you dodge the wrong way? Too slow?”

“Ha-ha, Eskel. You’re hilarious. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You got distracted. That is doing something wrong,” Geralt called, bringing her some water. “Drink.”

Syviis did, gladly, and sat up. Geralt helped her, putting his hand on the small of her back.

A memory flashed through her head when he touched her and she winced, squeezing her eyes shut. It wasn’t real. She knew it wasn’t real. Fuck. She thought she had these under control. ‘Hide it, Syviis,’ she screamed to herself. ‘Don’t fucking let on what you’re seeing.’

Geralt caught it, though. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she looked at him pleadingly. “Please leave it.”

Geralt narrowed his eyes, alarmed at the sudden behavior change, but didn’t say anything more. She winced again and this time put her head in her hands, whimpering to herself. Geralt looked at Eskel and Lambert who both had clear concern, then to Yen. She nodded at her husband and looked at his sister. He intended for her to read Syviis. Yen closed her eyes and focused. Syviis was tough to get into. She had such strong defensive walls up. Yen wondered what had happened to her to cause such walls to be built.

In a flash, she broke through them. She spent but a moment in the memory and instantly knew why Syviis hadn’t wanted anyone to see. Her eyes flew open and she gasped loudly. Syviis looked up at Yen with tearful eyes.

“Wait- it’s not real! It’s not real, I promise!”

“I believe you,” Yen sat and cradled the girl, who now seemed so much like a little girl, broken, battered, and hurt. The strength and poise she possessed now vanished, and it hurt Yen to see her, broken as she was. Yen looked at Geralt, who stood, his mouth open, eyes filled with anger.

Geralt opened his mouth to ask what she had seen but was cut off by Syviis’ broken rambling. “I promise you, Yennefer, it’s not real. They- they put it in my head and I - I thought I’d gotten it all out. They’d stopped for so long, I… Yennefer, I hate thinking about it, can you help? And please don’t tell them! I don’t want them to know-”

“Syviis.”

“Yennefer…”

“Who did this? Who put these images in your head? It wasn’t a mental attack. This is something that happened. A memory.”

“No- it wasn’t them!”

“I believe you. But it’s someone who took their likeness. Who took his likeness. Who?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Yen stared at her, waiting for more of an explanation.

“I don’t know who they were. It was a king. But I never saw his face. He- their mage- he put a spell on the room where they kept me. He always came in looking like… like... “ she glanced at Geralt and then looked down. Geralt frowned.

“So…” Yennefer started. “This mage, he spelled the room. And everytime he walked in, he took Geralt’s likeness.”

Syviis didn’t look up. “Yes.”

“And the king, he was there? But you never knew who he was?”

“Yes. The king looked as Vesemir. I don’t know who the others were.”

“What else did they do to you?”

Syviis’ eyes looked up at Yennefer, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to.

“Let me get this straight,” growled Geralt. “These people. They had you locked up. And they took… they took our faces, chiefly mine, to torture you? So, it seemed to you, that I was the one hurting you?”

Syviis couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t look into his eyes and see how mad she knew he was. Yen confirmed it instead.

Geralt stood, breathing heavily for a moment, then put his hand under Syviis’ chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. “I’m not mad at you. This isn’t your fault. I’m… Syviis I’m so sorry, I need to know. In what ways did they… make me tortue you?”

She whimpered, “I can’t say it to you, Geralt. I know you can tell. But I can’t say it. Please don’t make me say it.”

He let go of her chin, and didn’t say anything. He just walked out. She broke down, curling into herself for a moment. 

Yennefer pulled her closer and pet her hair. She knew it must have hurt Geralt that she was in such a state.

Syviis whimpered. “He… oh fuck… a pox on it, he’ll never fucking look at me the same again. Everything is ruined.”

No one said anything, though they all knew that wasn’t the case. Geralt would never allow that. In this moment, though, he didn’t know what to do.

“I should go,” Syviis declared after a long period of time. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Lambert scoffed, “And what makes you think you’re going anywhere?”

Syviis’ eyes hardened, and Yen realized she had pulled herself out of her broken state, even if momentarily. “Because he won’t want me here. Not anymore. Frankly, none of you should. I’m- it’s… I shouldn’t be here. I need to go.”

“And where, my dear, would you go? Back to the civilization hidden in the woods near here?” Vesemir entered then, Geralt following him silently. Syviis blanched. “Yes, dear, I’ve known. Just as I now know what you’ve been seeing. Geralt told me. Don’t be upset with him. He wants to help. Let us see.”

“No.”

“Syviis, I wasn’t asking. You will let the sorceress back into your mind. We, Geralt and I, will drink the Black Seagull and we will be able to see too.”  
“No. Absolutely not.”

“Again, this isn’t a request,” Chimed in Geralt.

Syviis stared at the ground. “I don’t want you to see. It… it wasn’t good, Geralt. It wasn’t just you torturing me. It was… it was also me succumbing to it. Do you understand?”

Geralt did understand. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. In order for me to combat that appropriately, I need to see what they… what I did to you. Syviis, please.”

Syviis didn’t say anything. Geralt looked at his husband. “Jask, take Ciri upstairs for some soup and to sleep. Please.”

“Of course, my lovely garroter.”

Ciri struggled a bit in Geralt’s arms as he tried to hug her goodnight. “No! I want to stay, please!”

Geralt looked defeated, but replied, “No.”

“Please, father! She’s hurt, and I want to comfort her. Please.”

“No.”

“Ciri, go up to bed with Jaskier, please,” chimed in Yen. “There are certain things little girls such as yourself should not have to see.”

Ciri pouted, but allowed Jaskier to take her upstairs. Vesemir set to work preparing the Black Seagull. Geralt walked up to stand directly in front of Syviis, still sitting in the same spot on the edge of the table. When she didn’t look up at him, he put his hand on her cheek. “Let’s take a little walk, yes? You and me.”

She breathed heavily, but got up, slowly, and started moving to the door. Geralt was behind her, whispering to Ves and Yen that they only needed a few minutes.

The two walked in silence. It was a quick walk, and they both knew instinctively where they were heading. A small pond on the Kaer Morhen grounds, where there was a lovely whispering willow tree. They had often sat under it while Syviis drew what she could see, and described what she could hear. It was her favorite part of her training, so much so that it often didn’t feel like training. Geralt and her would spend hours here at a time. Observing, learning, and relaxing. It was also where Syviis always went when she needed to think, clear her head, or just be alone. Of course, for her in training, alone had always meant with Geralt.

They arrived and Geralt noticed Syviis immediately relax, if only a little. They sat right on the edge of the water, where small waves came in and out and their feet occasionally got wet.

“I’m sorry this happened.”

Syviis sighed but didn’t say anything. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the grounds. They were haunted. They would always be. There was the sound of small forest creatures chittering and crying. The wind blowing through the willow tree. A splashing in the lake, from either fish or debris. The smell of the air familiar to her. 

“I didn’t know what to do. It was you- for all intents and purposes. And while a part of me always knew that it was a spell... I was there so long, Geralt. I wasn’t strong enough to fight back or fight… you.”

“I would never hurt you like that. You do know that, don’t you?”

She breathed deeply. “Yes. I do. But it wasn’t you. And it… was equally on me to be sure that I knew the difference and… resisted,” she looked at him then, for the first time since he’d found out. “I couldn’t, after a while. I gave in and… I let it happen. This is my own fault.”

Geralt’s face hardened. “No. It’s not. And what’s more, I’m going to fix this, Syviis.”

“You can’t. It’s done. And I won’t let you see. There’s no need to make it worse.”

“I’m not giving you much of a choice, sister.”

She dropped the faint smile she had. “You really aren’t, are you?”

The pair walked back into the main hall of Kaer Morhen, a slight bit more at peace than when they left. They had talked for longer than intended. She had wanted to prepare him for what he would see. He felt like somehow it still wouldn’t be enough.

The Black Seagull was ready when they got back, and Yen smiled at Syviis as Geralt helped her lay down on the table again, but this time there were blankets and pillows on the table that Lambert had arranged for her. Geralt sat next to her and took her hand. She wouldn’t look at him. They drank the Seagull and prepared themselves to delve into her memories.

She started breathing a little quicker, and he held her hand tighter. Yen had never seen this side of him. Not to this extreme anyway. Geralt was completely soft. He began to stroke her hair and whispered something to her. She closed her eyes and a few quick and quiet tears started slipping from her eyelids. 

Vesemir came over to her and set his hand on her cheek. She looked at him. “Syviis. Witchers don’t cry.”

She stared at him for a moment, then at Geralt. She slowly nodded, her lips still shaking, and she breathed out a little.

She closed her eyes and Yen walked around to her head, gently touching it and lightly stroking her hair. The Witchers all faintly touched Yennefer’s shoulders, except Geralt, who firmly gripped her thigh. They closed their eyes, and watched.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath? Sorta?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our new friend has some pretty rough panic attacks in this one. Adding the tags, but proceed at your own risk.

Syviis’ eyes flew open. She was sweating and couldn’t get any air in her lungs. She launched forward, sitting up faster than anyone else could come back to reality. She felt hands on her shoulders as she was gasping for air, trying to gently comfort her and lay her back down. She shrugged them off and tried to get up. Outside. She needed to get outside. Fresh air. 

Arms tried to hold her down to the table. She threw them off of her. Everything she saw was red and hazy. She could only hear ringing in her ears. She burst through the door and walked outside two steps before she collapsed to her knees, one arm digging into the ground for support, the other holding her chest, desperately needing air. She knew she had to get control of her breath. It was instinctual. She stayed in that position, trying to slow her breath. She started to hear muffled conversation behind her and felt eyes watching her closely. She didn’t care. The red haze was fading, she could feel air starting to fill her lungs. The ringing was easing up. She gripped the ground harder, her other arm falling in symmetry, digging into the ground with just as much force. She closed her eyes, breathing hard.

“...attack. She used to get them a lot. Give her some damn space, Geralt.”

“I need to help her!”

Geralt. Vesemir. Where am I?

“Geralt, love, give her a moment. She’s grown now. Let her be.”

“Yen, I can’t just leave her alone, she needs me! Especially now…”

Yen? Oh gods.

Her eyes snapped open and she flung herself around, falling on her ass in the dirt, looking up in horror at the people she loved staring at her.

Oh GODS.

Geralt could hardly stand looking at her like this. Seeing her like that… broken. A ruined version of the sister he helped raise. Fuck he would kill them for putting her through that. Absolutely fucking kill them. But not now. Now he needed to be there for her. It was all about her. He closed his eyes and snarled.

“Syviis, darling, can you breathe?” Yen questioned softly. Every one of them had a look of utmost concern on their faces, except Geralt. He looked murderous.

“I…” Geralt wouldn’t look at her. She knew it. “Oh… Yes, I can... breathe.” More tears welling up. She closed her eyes.

“Would you like to come back inside? Maybe some tea would help-”

“No! Thank you.” She looked at Geralt again, and this time his eyes met hers. They weren’t the same. He was looking at her differently. She sobbed once. His eyes widened with realization, and then quickly softened as he reached for her. She started and pulled away, and without skipping a beat moved out of the way, quick and agile, and took off. She heard them screaming her name behind her but let the wind carry it away. She knew they wouldn’t be able to catch her. All she wanted to do was run. And she did.

She yanked off her boots, one at a time, and kept running. Feet bare, she set off again. She let her hair out of it’s pinned restraints. She untied her cloak and let it fly off her shoulders. Her skirt, not meant for such movement, ripped up both sides, almost to the top of her thighs. She pulled off her shirt, leaving only her small top to conceal and contain her charms. With each new freedom she felt herself pushing harder, faster. She wanted to run the Trail. So she did. She ran to the bottom and started the obstacle course that she’d trained on for years. She moved quickly through it, making a few mistakes, but all the same, she felt her tension releasing. She felt more normal than she had in years. She wanted more. She stopped at the end of the course. At the top. Breathing hard, she ran her hands through her hair, turning it white as snow once more. She touched her medallion and knew her eyes were her own again. No more hiding. At least not tonight.

Even with all of that, she wasn’t completely satisfied. She ran more. She ran until she reached the pond she loved so much. It hit her again, the panging, overwhelming emotion she didn’t want to feel right now. Anger. Sadness. Mourning. Mourning a relationship that was, but is no longer. This place, this tree, all reminders of a time that had come and gone. Wrecked, like everything else in her life. 

She felt eyes on her again. They had found her. She didn’t care. She was angry. She began picking things up and throwing them into the pond with a fury she’d only known once before. The ringing came back, but this time louder. Different. 

“Syviis.”

She started to tear off the branches from their tree, stomping on them.

“Syviis.”

She fell to her knees, hitting the ground hard over and over with her fists. She saw red again, but this time smelled that it was blood.

“Syviis.”

She didn’t register the tears flowing from her eyes. She screamed. Loud and guttural. 

“Syviis, look at me.”

She barely felt the hands grazing the back of her shoulders before she whipped around and screamed, “DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!”

She stood there, face to face, with her brother. She stared directly into his eyes, and felt the anger slowly ebbing away, like waves of the ocean. Like waves of their pond.

She started to feel the pain. Her eyes stung, her feet burned, and her hands felt like they’d been crushed. The ringing stopped, and she could hear faint crying. She looked down at her hands, which were bloody. Her legs scraped up too. Where she stood blood seeped out from underneath her feet. 

“Fuck.”

She looked up again at Geralt. He was looking at her like he always did.

“Fuck is right.” he smiled at her gently.

She didn’t smile back. She grimaced.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered.

He stared at her for a minute. “I know.” He lifted a hand to her hair, and played with a few strands, before gripping her face tightly and looking intently in her eyes. “You’re you again.”

She smiled a little and chuckled. “Couldn’t help it. I’ve spent so long not being me.”

He looked her up and down and smiled. “You ran the Trail?”

She snorted and belly laughed. “Fast as I could.”

“Looks like you made a few mistakes, doesn’t it?”

“I might’ve. In my defense it’s been what, five decades since the sacking of Kaer Morhen? More?”

“A manticore wouldn’t care how long it’s been since you fought.”

“A manticore wouldn’t have had the chance.” She flashed a grin at him. It was wild. It was herself.

It was quiet between the two of them for a moment. Lambert spoke up then. “Well now I hate to break up this sweet moment, really I do, but you’re hurt. We need to get bandages on those.”

Syviis looked down again and swore. “I can do it.”

Vesemir walked up to her then, inspecting her arms, her back, which had a rather large slash through the middle of it, and her legs. “I don’t think you can do it. You reckless child. What in the world were you thinking?”

Syviis frowned. “It wasn’t that reckless!”

Geralt growled again, back to his normal self. Syviis smiled at that, even if just to herself. “It was reckless. You should be wearing shoes, armor. The trail isn’t for-”

“For what, Geralt? A lot has happened since I last saw you. When I was… when I was with Aedison, the king of the free folk living in the woods, I learned a lot from Ryza. She was the captain of their guard,” Syviis looked down and smiled, and Geralt noticed her blush, “She taught me how to fight like an elf. Quick and nimble. And she taught me how to… be a woman. In a manner of speaking. Since I apparently didn’t know much about that.”

She smiled crookedly at the Witchers. Geralt huffed out a breath, keeping the facade that he was frustrated with her, but he knew he was thrilled that she had learned these things from somewhere.

“One of the most important things she taught me was that I don’t have to sacrifice being a woman in order to fight. She showed me how to combine being a woman and being a witcher. It was… different. She and Glycen said I thrived on it, that it was what I was meant to be. He taught me some magic, too. Turns out, I’m pretty damn powerful.”

Geralt smiled softly. “That’s more than I was ever able to teach you.”

Syviis frowned. “No. It was different. Neither of them alone are enough. I needed both. I still need both. I still need you.” 

Geralt looked at Vesemir who nodded gently. “Then we start training in the morning. I’ll train both you and Cirilla. She’s far behind you, but it’ll give her something to work towards. Inspiration.”

Syviis grinned, wild again. “Excellent. For now, though, maybe you could help me get inside? My feet do hurt something terrible…”

Geralt rolled his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sad flashbacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hurt my heart to write a little, but it is a Very Geralt Move.

Nights at Kaer Morhen were haunted. Quiet, darker than dark, with whispers of the ghosts that had found forever homes in the castle walls.

Syviis hadn’t slept alone in Kaer Morhen since she was little. It had always bothered her. This night, with her injuries healed nicely from Yennefer’s magic and some White Seagull, save the scar from the lash on her back that would remain with her forever, she was especially restless. 

After staring at the ceiling for hours, she decided wandering the empty and haunted halls of her home would be far more entertaining than trying to sleep when she knew she wouldn’t. She slipped out of bed, still wearing the same clothes. She grabbed her black cloak from the closet in the room that has been hers so long ago. Perhaps it was partially this room causing her restlessness. Much had happened here, and for all she’d tried to forget, the blood stains that couldn’t be cleaned were still on the floor, mocking her. She decided to forgo shoes again, instead deciding that she’d like to feel the ground beneath her feet. 

Holding the cloak tight to her body, she creaked open the door and moved silently out of the room. The Witchers wouldn’t like that she was running around the broken castle alone, for reasons she never really understood. Geralt, especially, wouldn’t be very happy with her, and she didn’t necessarily want to incur his wrath the night before she was to continue her training with him. He had ways of making training particularly tough on her, and she remembered them well. No doubt he had picked up more tricks and tips since then.

She crept slowly past his room where she was sure he was fast asleep with Yen and Jaskier cuddled to him, and Cirilla sleeping soundly next to them. She breathed deeply but shakily. She’d so badly wanted to stay with him tonight, but she couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t ask him to stay with her just so she could sleep in this god forsaken castle. He had family now, and it wasn’t his job to take care of her anymore. She suddenly missed Ryza a great deal. Ryza had taken care of her, in more ways than Syviis could count. One of them being, she stayed at night. Syviis hadn’t had to worry about the night terrors or panic attacks that plagued her in her sleep, sometimes even during the daylight. She had Ryza, who was soft and smelled of a fire and blade oil at times, and lavender and citrus at others. Both scents were not only familiar, but everything to her. They calmed her when she couldn’t be calmed, and focused her mid-battle. Gods, she loved her.

She looked away from Geralt’s door and continued up the stairs, sneaking silently past several other rooms; Eskel, Lambert, and Vesemir in that order. She stepped gracefully climbed the stairs with no effort until she reached the top. The door to the roof of the castle was unlocked, but stuck. She threw up a quick Aard Sign, wincing and looking back down the stairs when it was louder than expected in the quiet hall. The door opened easily after that. She walked to the edge of the castle walls and sat on it, her feet dangling hundreds of feet above the ground, her hair whipping with the cold winter wind. She pulled her cloak tighter around herself. She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes. She remembered everything.

The summer heat was nearly inescapable at Kaer Morhen. Training in it was hell. Being loudly and aggressively reprimanded by Geralt in front of dozens of students was even worse. She looked out at the grounds of the Wolf School.

She’d not slept the night before while Geralt was on a hunt. She’d not even tried. She stayed up all night drawing instead. When Geralt returned and had found her in the exact same spot that he’d left her in, her eyes black underneath with exhaustion, he’d been furious. 

“Why didn’t you sleep?”

“You were gone, and I just wanted to-”

“I don’t care what you wanted to do. You know what I want you to do? Get changed, we’re going out to train.”

“But, Geralt-”

“Do not argue with me. Now.”

Syviis knew when she shouldn’t fight with him, but she also knew she would be no good training today. And she wasn’t. Geralt marched her out to the training field. Everyone stared, as they could tell he was fuming. 

“Longsword.”

“Geralt, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…”

“Did I give you the impression that this is up for debate?”

Syviis winced. His harsh words never felt good. She quickly moved to grab a training sword.

“No. Pick up a real sword.”

Syviis froze. She slowly turned around but didn’t meet his eyes. She whispered, “I really don’t think I can, Geralt, please.”

“Your enemies won’t care if you’ve slept. Your enemies will kill you. Pick up the fucking sword.”

Syviis stifled the tears that were coming to her eyes. Witchers don’t cry. Geralt pulled his sword, his because he’d finished his training long before, and stood in an attack ready position. Syviis picked out a sword and slowly moved into a defense ready position. He wasted no time. He attacked quickly and sharply, and she knew she couldn’t parry his strength, so she ducked into herself and dodged away at a roll, quickly standing back to her feet. He didn’t give her even a moment. He swung at her again, and this time she had no choice but to attempt a parry, holding with both hands the sword above her face, while he pushed his farther and farther down. She grunted and then faltered for a minute, losing her grip on her sword, his stopping less than an inch from her face. She met his eyes and whimpered. He was angry. So angry with her. She’d really messed up. He quickly withdrew his sword, but it slashed clean across her cheek. She cried out. He cut at her once, and she was unprepared. She fell backwards, dropping the sword with the other hand. He swung at her on the ground, she gasped and narrowly evaded it. He swung again, and she backed further up, choking on air and her tears. He swung at her a third and final time, but this time she knew she couldn’t dodge it. She screamed his name and curled into a ball. She heard the sword land next to her somewhere. She didn’t dare move. 

“Get up.”

She looked up to see him standing over her.

“Geralt-”

“You fucked up!” He yelled, loud enough to attract the attention of every student and teacher in the vicinity. “You can’t just not sleep! Not take care of yourself! Wasting hours on those stupid drawings! You’re a Witcher! Not a fucking artist! You waste your own time, and in turn mine. Pull something like that again, and see what fucking happens!”

She stared up at him in horror, her eyes glossing over with tears. “Geralt, I’m sorry, really!”

“Sorry won’t save your fucking life, will it?” He walked away with that.

She laid there, blood still rushing down her cheek, every Witcher outside staring at her, some with amusement, some with anger. None with concern. But that was nothing new. She let a few tears leave her eyes before picking up her sword and putting it away. She picked up Geralt’s sword as well, knowing that he expected her to do so, and clean and tend to it. She did so as quickly as she could, knowing the eyes were all on her still, even if they were being more subtle. It still took her over an hour.

When she finished, she carried it inside, ignoring all the looks at her dirty ass, her bloody cheek, and her tear stained, exhaustion darkened under eyes. She walked directly into the room that she shared with Geralt, as he laid on the bed reading. She stared at him, and he cocked an eyebrow at her expectantly. She set his sword, cleaned and sharpened, on the chest at the foot of the bed.

She didn’t wait for the approval he was meant to give her at the job she did. She knew it wouldn’t come. She moved to sit at the desk, not missing that the bath in the room had been filled, heated, and scented, as she could smell the chamomile and see the heat rising off of it. It was an apology. She refused to acknowledge it, instead sitting back at the desk, picking up her pencil to draw more.

She heard Geralt move, getting off the bed and coming to stand behind her. “That’s really beautiful.”

She ignored him and kept working.

“I filled the bath for you.”

She ignored him again.

“Syviis, I’m sorry.”

She paused, “No you’re not.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not!”

Geralt chuckled softly. “But I am. And you know that.”

He started running his fingers through her hair and rubbing her tense shoulder muscles. He was sorry, and she did know. But she wanted to be mad. Unfortunately, he knew her very well, and he knew she was longing to get in that hot, sweet smelling bath; then crawl into bed, in the middle of the day, and curl into her brother, who was everything to her, and sleep until the next morning.

“Come on, then. Forgive me, and rest. Please.”

She sighed, still notably mad, but she did put her pencil down and relax into him. “Fine.”

Memories continued to flow through her mind as the wind hit her face hard. Both good and bad. She sat there for a long while before finally getting up. There was more that she wanted to see. She made her way back down the stairs, equally as quiet, this time moving through the foyer to the stairs leading to the lower levels of the castle. 

She shivered as she moved her way through. These were rooms people didn’t often visit anymore. The morgues, where they stored and performed autopsies on the little boys who didn’t make it. The exam rooms where they regularly were checked up on. Syviis had never had to come down there for those. Vesemir and Geralt performed hers in her room. She had been in there many times though, with Geralt for his. Hospital rooms, where anyone injured would stay. And finally, the laboratories where they underwent mutations and trials. She shuddered at the memories of screaming, every part of her burning under the mutagens, tasting her own blood as she vomited and shook, being held down by straps and arms, not being able to breath, and Geralt holding her head and whispering to her that she was going to be okay. 

Geralt had told her a long time ago she would never have to go back into one of those rooms. And she hadn’t since then. But now, as she stood in front of the door, a very different person, many decades later, she wondered.

She slowly opened the door, her mouth dropping at the sight. Things were scattered everywhere. Vials broke, herbs trampled. The main table with straps that she’d had nightmares about for years was overturned, and seemingly burnt. This was not the room she remembered. This was not the same place. She stepped out and closed the door behind her, running quickly back up the stairs, closing the door behind her. She closed her eyes and slumped down against it, breathing heavily. 

Maybe her Witchers were right. Maybe she shouldn’t be wandering the castle alone at night.

She quietly moved back to her room, opening the door, sneaking in, and closing it almost silently. She turned around, and almost screamed, before the reassuring voice came.

“Hold on, it’s me.”

Syviis relaxed. “Geralt. What are you doing in here?” She took off her cloak and laid on the bed next to where he was sitting with his back against the wall, her head landing in his lap naturally.

He brought his hand to her hair. She relaxed. “I was worried about you. Wasn’t sure if you could sleep. Appears that I was right.”

“You were right.”

“Where were you?”

“I went to the roof, sat there for some time. There’s a lot of memories here. Lots to think about.”

“I see. Where else were you?”

She stiffened a bit. “I went down to the laboratories.”

Geralt sighed. “Why’d you do that?”

“There were memories there too. Some that should never be forgotten. You can feel it there.”

Geralt hummed, his eyes cosing. “Can you?”

“Yes. It’s… sad and lovely all at the same time.”

Geralt smiled. “I know.”

Syviis’ eyes felt heavy. “I know we’re supposed to train tomorrow, but-”

“Actually, I was thinking we could go somewhere, just the two of us. If you’re interested?”

Syviis snuggled into him more, her eyes closed at this point, her body feeling heavy.

“Yes, please, but can we… can I sleep in some? The sun will rise shortly and I’m so tired.”

“Rest and when you wake, we will go. Wherever you want. I promise.”

“You’ll be here?”

“Yes.”

She let sleep take over her, barely feeling when Geralt rearranged her to be more comfortable.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aw big brother Geralt!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re a ways into this now and I’m just rollin with it soooo?

Syviis woke to the sun brightly shining through the window. The bath was filled and heated, and there were clean clothes laid on a desk with food on a tray next to it. There was now a rug covering the bigger spots of blood on the floor. She smiled to herself. She could feel her hair was messy and her stomach was light. Her sleep hadn’t been so perfect this time. Her terrors had returned and she’d woken many times from nightmares. She was still sweating. Geralt had been there for every single one. He’d stayed with her through the whole night. She wasn’t sure where he was now, though. She got out of bed and walked to the tray of food. She put on her cloak and grabbed the tray and a book, moving outside to the balcony connected to the room. It was a rather large space with flowers surrounding a small pool with a place to lay next to it, covered in blankets and pillows. She sat and began to eat, looking out over the Kaer Morhen grounds. She could see Ciri training with Lambert. She looked over to Geralt’s room, where he had his own balcony like hers. Yennefer was laying on the blankets, and Jaskier swimming in the pool. They were talking, but oddly even with her heightened hearing, she couldn’t make out what they were saying. It was a protective spell. Geralt walked out from his room onto the balcony, and sat next to Yennefer. She began stroking his thigh lazily as they talked. Jaskier laughed at something. Geralt leaned down to give Yen a loving kiss, then moved to do the same to Jaskier. Jask pouted, and tried to pull Geralt into the pool. Geralt hesitated, but pulled back, giving one final what Syviis could only assume was a goodbye. He left the room, and Syviis heard his footsteps coming towards her as he left the protective warding.

She sighed, feeling a little guilty. 

He walked in and gently closed the door. She heard him behind her but didn’t turn around to look.

“Good, you ate.”

“I had an appetite,” Syviis smiled tightly.

Geralt sat next to her, lounging back and kicking his feet to the side of her. He closed his eyes. “Syviis, you know I did miss you. Very much.”

She didn’t look up from her book. “I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. I can see it when you leave them to be with me.”

Geralt’s eyes were tracking her hotly. She continued reading her book. He cleared his throat. She ignored him. He gently kicked the book, knocking it out of her hands. She sighed and looked up at him.

“You feel guilty.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, only staring at him. “I do.”

“Why?”

“They’re you’re family. You shouldn’t have to babysit me. I saw when you said goodbye. I couldn’t hear, your clever mage saw to that, but I did see. Your bard wanted you to stay. You wanted to stay. But you didn’t. You came to me. And you shouldn’t have to.”

Geralt smiled, picking up her book and feigning disinterest as she had. Teasing her. “Well, little one,” he began using his pet name for her, “What you didn’t hear was that Jaskier wanted to spend time with all of us today. He wants to get to know you. That’s why he was pouting.”

She rolled her eyes and laid back, closing her eyes, her feet landing in his lap.

“Yen does, too. Syviis, they’re not upset with my spending time with you or jealous of our closeness. If anyone is jealous, it’s Cirilla. She misses me, I think. She wants to be a Witcher, and you’re the only female Witcher to exist.”

Syviis opened one eye to peer over at him. 

Geralt continued. “You need to realize that nothing is going to stop me from being there for you. Now through forever.”

She opened both eyes then. “I do.”

“Good.” He paused for a moment. “You should get in your bath. I think you’ll want to look your best today.”

Syviis scoffed. “Why’s that?”

“Because I’d like you to take me to the village you lived in.”

Syviis’ eyebrows shot up. “Ha!”

Geralt cocked one eyebrow. “What’s funny?”

“I don’t know that I should go back there right now. I didn’t necessarily leave on pleasant terms.”

“How so?”

“They didn’t want me to go. They said it wasn’t safe, and they’d never see me again.”

“Don’t you want to prove them wrong?”

Syviis looked down. “She wouldn’t care if I proved her wrong,” She took a deep breath and looked up again. “She’ll be mad regardless, she already is mad, and I don’t want to see her mad at me right now. We didn’t agree that I should go and I don’t want to deal with the consequences of me leaving in the middle of the night to-”

“You left? In the middle of the night?”

“...Yes.”

“So, you snuck out. Ran away, in a sense. Like you did with me.”

Syviis sighed. “She wasn’t going to let me go without a fight, but after the reports of a Witcher being in the vicinity reached us… if I stayed there without even trying to find you I never would have been happy. I just needed to know that you were safe, I wasn’t intending to stay away for long, but ...”

Geralt took a deep breath. “But now that you’re with me…”

“I don’t want to leave you. And she won’t come. She just won’t. Aedison wouldn’t put up a fight about me leaving if you were with me, but I just can’t… I’ll lose her forever, and as it stands now, I technically haven’t. I can’t make the choice, which is worse. Losing you or losing her. I can’t choose which is… the lesser evil. So I’d prefer not to.”

Geralt stared at her. “You know, I once thought to abstain from choosing between evils. But I learned quickly that things don’t work that way. You do have to choose, and you know I will stand by your choice. What’s more… you don’t have to make that exact choice. You won’t lose me, not ever. I can’t stay there, but I can visit you. And you can visit me.”

“Yes. But the problem is, I don’t want that. I want to be with you. I don’t want to hide in a village when there’s no need for it anymore. I want to be me, with you.”

“I understand.”

“So we don’t have to go?”

“We do. You need to face this, no matter how long it takes for you to come to that decision. Fortunately, I’d like to go with you. I can help you make this decision, if you’d like.”

Syviis groaned and flopped back on the blankets. “Please, can’t we just stay here? This isn’t going to be a cute welcome back, this will be you watching me get yelled at by the woman I love and-”

“Woman you love, huh?”

Syviis’ ears and face turned beet red. “Yes.”

Of course Geralt had sensed this, when she’d spoken about the woman named Ryza before, that his sister was more than simply friends with her. But, he didn’t necessarily expect love. Syviis wasn’t the most trusting of women, and understandably so, as she grew up solely around men.

“Well then. That makes this all the more important, doesn’t it?”

Syviis was quiet.

“What’s on your mind, little one?”

“We never talked. About… what happened. What you saw. Insisted on seeing, I might add.”

“What is there to talk about? I’d rather you not have to relive those events, and anyway, it wasn’t me. I know it may not seem that way to you, so I’m just trying to go easy on you. Be gentle. And figure that you will come to me when- and if- you need to. Is that not reasonable?”

“It is. But… you’re really not...mad? You know, that after some time I… reacted?”

“Syviis, I know as well as any other that there is only so much that you can resist. You might be stronger than an average human, but even we can’t escape the needs we have. I am grateful that, while this was torture, you had some reprise from it, even if it was in that form. This may not be how you see it, but it should be.”

Syviis nodded but didn’t say anything.

Geralt looked to the bath then back at her. “So? Shall we be going?”

“This trip you’re so insistent on, it won’t be just a day. It might take some time. A few days, maybe.”

“Then we will stay for the day and rest, and leave at first light tomorrow.”

“Alright.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B R A T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Methinks I just use that word for my own personal gratification?

Geralt finished adjusting the last saddlebag on Roach and turned around to face a pouting Cirilla leaning against a softly smiling Jaskier.

“But I don’t understand! Why can’t I come with you?” Ciri cried.

Geralt grunted. “Because I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, and I’d prefer you be safe here.”

“So where you’re going isn’t safe?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Syviis walked through the door then, pausing when she saw the look on Ciri’s face. She looked at Geralt with a guilty expression.

Ciri continued. “Why do you even have to go? Can’t you stay here and train me? I’m sure Syviis can manage on her own!”

Syviis looked even more guilty, and Geralt took notice. He sighed and knelt down in front of Ciri, who had her hands crossed over her chest. “I have to go because if I don’t go with her, she won’t go at all. She is even more stubborn than you are. You two should get along nicely.”

Ciri’s expression did not change. “I just don’t get it. Why do you have to take care of her so much? Isn’t she a grownup? You should be taking care of me instead.”

Geralt closed his eyes and swore, looking back at Syviis who was mounted on her own horse, looking down. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. He looked back at Jaskier, who’s smile had completely dropped.

“Cirilla. Bratty little girls with no thought to others’ feelings get in trouble.” He stood up and unbuckled his belt. “For that comment, I should tan your hide.”

She shied back into Jaskier who stepped away. “Oh no princess, that was nasty. I’m not going to save you from this one. You’ve earned it.”

“No! I don’t want to be in trouble, father, please.”

“Apologize then. Now.”

“I… I’m sorry, Syviis.”

Syviis looked at her, then at Geralt. She said nothing, and spurred her horse to start walking. 

Geralt growled and mounted Roach, then looked down at Ciri who’s lower lip was trembling and Jaskier who was standing just beside a newly arrived Yennefer. “We are not done here, Ciri. If I were you, I would suggest a massive change in attitude by the time we get back. Massive.” he sighed. “I love all of you. Cirilla, why don’t you tell your mother what you just said.” He rode away with that, knowing he had no patience left and needed to catch up to Syviis. Ciri wasn’t going to fix this, so he had to.

“Syviis, she didn’t mean it. She’s just frustrated.”

“She did fucking mean it, Geralt. She meant every word. And she’s not wrong, I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“Syviis-”

“No, Geralt. You shouldn’t fucking have to walk on eggshells with me. I shouldn’t have come to find you. I should’ve just stayed where I was and stayed hidden, it’s no fucking wonder I feel so shitty all the time, it’s because I’m shit! And I-”

“Syviis get off your fucking horse. Now!”

She hadn’t noticed him get off his horse and walk next to her, stopping her mare, and stopping her from her rambling. Her jaw snapped shut and she slowly jumped off her horse, coming face to face with him.

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Just stood there fuming. When he finally did speak, it was loud and aggressive. “I’ve had just about enough of this bullshit. Shut the fuck up about how I’m doting upon you, how I’m making bad decisions, how I’m abandoning my family for you. Just stop.”

Syviis mistook his pause for him being finished. “Geralt, I-”

“No that’s enough! You’re going to get back on your fucking horse, now, and you’re going to stop making both of us feel miserable for mistakes that were made in the past. We are going to ride in silence for the rest of the day. I mean it, not one fucking word, you brat, until we stop to make camp. I am trying- trying to make my peace with this and fix things, but you keep bringing things back up that are better left dead! It’s time you made an effort, too. It’s over. You’re still my fucking sister, and nothing will change that, or our relationship. I will deal with Cirilla when we get back but you, you little shit, will stop this fucking instant with your maudlin bullshit. We are done with it!”

Syviis was speechless.

“Do I make myself clear, you fucking brat?”

“Yes, sir...”

“Good. Lets go. Now.”

They did ride in silence the rest of the day. There was tension at first, then it felt normal. She was taking his words to heart, and he was relieved. He’d felt a little bad, at first, that he’d screamed at her so harshly. But he also knew, better than most, that she responded best to strong authority. Particularly when it was him.

They stopped to make camp about an hour before it was dark. He didn’t say anything to her, just rode off the path and she followed, beginning to set up their bedrolls while he made a fire.

“Here,” he said to her once the fire was made and they were sitting on their bedrolls. “I packed some food so we wouldn’t have to hunt. Are you cold? You’re shivering.” 

“Thank you. I am cold, but mostly I’m just... nervous.”

“About?”

“Ryza. She might proper kill me when she sees me.”

Geralt chucked. “You think so?”

Syviis snorted. “She thinks I’m more of a brat than you do! And, in fairness, she has more reason. You, I don’t argue with so much. With her it’s… well, we usually have to fight it out. Sometimes she wins, sometimes I win.”

“What do you argue about?”

“Everything.”

“Really? Everything?”

“Yes, everything. Stupid shit like what to drink with dinner to bigger things like me taking on monsters by myself.”

“That’s what happens when you love someone, and when someone loves you, little one. I wouldn’t be thrilled about you fighting monsters on your own either.”

“But the problem is, I don’t know HOW to be a woman and love someone like that. Everything I know I learned from her. And therefore, she anticipates almost all my moves. Not all,” she flashed a wicked grin at him. “But most.”

Geralt hummed, and looked down at his food, his brow furrowed. “Well… I didn’t know how to love someone either. Not really. Yen and Jaskier, they taught me. But I didn’t have to learn how to be someone else to love them. Do you understand?”

Syviis looked at him crookedly.

Geralt smiled and continued. “Why do you have to, as you so elegantly put it, become a woman to love her?”

She shrugged, “I suppose I don’t. But she spent many hours teaching me how to act like a ‘woman’. You know, things I never learned at Kaer Morhen.” She winked at him. “And when I say that, I don’t mean that she was trying to reverse me being a Witcher. She simply wanted me to have a safe blend of the two, if I so wished. And… I like it.”

“Yes, but, why does that have to affect how you love her?”

She looked down, a bit confused. “I guess… it doesn't. But I wanted to make her proud. She is, somehow, this strong, sexy, incredibly feminine warrior who manages to keep up with herself as much as she keeps up with threats. And I’m just…”

“A Witcher.”

She looked at him and smiled. “Not what I was going to say.”

He chuckled. “We should get some sleep. It’ll be morning before we realize.”

She tucked herself under the blankets and watched as he put a few things away, then followed suit. She snuggled up to him and laid her head on his chest.

“Geralt?”

He kept his eyes closed but cocked an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“What is Yennefer like?”

Geralt smiled and hugged her closer. “Much like your Ryza it sounds. If you decided to stay with us, she could help you. She’s already expressed an interest in assisting you with magic. She’d be more than happy to help with… the rest as well.”

She lifted her head and narrowed her eyes, “She won’t make fun of me?”

He laughed, “I didn’t say that.”

The night got colder and they stayed close to each other. At an hour much too early, Syviis woke sweating and screaming, but Geralt brought her back to reality and soothed her back to sleep, and for once, she didn’t fight it, and it was as if nothing had ever changed between them.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gvaern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So obviously, this language in the books was never a full complete language. I made a little up, but most comes directly from the source material. Please forgive me! 
> 
> This is all I’ve written so far and the ending of this chapter sucks butttrr let me know if you want more, and I’ll gladly write!

The next morning, Syviis didn’t say anything while they packed their things and continued their journey. They were close to the village, and Geralt could tell how nervous she was, but didn’t say anything. She knew he was there, and she would let him know if she needed the support. They didn’t have to go far.

“We’re here,” Syviis nearly whispered, jumping off her mare. They had stopped at the edge of a dense forest. 

“There’s nothing here,” He dismounted Roach and followed her as she slowly started to lead her horse forward. “What are you looking for?”

Syviis was looking slowly around and walking carefully, “They’ll find us soon. The guard. They won’t recognize me right away,” she looked back at him, “The hair.”

They continued towards the trees and Geralt thought about how similar this was to Brokilon Forest. They heard a whistle and the arrow flew in between their heads. Syviis screamed in Elder Speech.

“Voe’rle!”

The answer came quickly, “Te thaess aep! ”

“N’te spar’le. Càelm… Ninnau creasa col …”

“Va, varh’he.”

Syviis fumed. “Essea-”

“Me en’ca minne…” Came a new voice. The voice quickly gained a face as a powerful she-elf stepped out of the foliage. 

Syviis immediately responded, looking down. “Me gvaern…”

Geralt cocked an eyebrow at Syviis, who realized what she said and looked back at him with a red face. More bodies emerged from the forest. Some elves, some druids, some humans.

The she-elf moved forward and lifted Syviis’ chin to meet her eyes. Geralt tensed, but made no move to stop her. This must’ve been Ryza.

Syviis whimpered and opened her mouth but Ryza spoke first. “N’te dice’en. Brat.”

“Squass’me…”

“Thaess aep.” She looked at Geralt. “Que glosse? Esseath?”

Geralt stood a little taller, watching his sister but still making no move to defend her, despite the fact that he didn’t like the way she was being manhandled and spoken to. He was here as her support, not to make things worse, and it seemed to him that she even enjoyed being treated this way.

Syviis spoke for him before he could. “Me fraer. Gwynnbleidd.” She giggled a little using the name many knew him by. One look from Ryza though and she stopped giggling. She was in deep shit.

Ryza let go of Syviis’ chin and dropped her Elder Speech. “Let’s go then. Aedison will be happy to see you. And you and I, my little love… need to have a chat.” she turned to the rest of her command, “the vatt’ghern is welcome here. No one is to bother him.”

Ryza turned around and looked at Geralt. “Good to meet you, White Wolf. Thank you for-” she stopped herself and looked sideways at Syviis. “Thank you for keeping this reckless little shit safe.”

Geralt chuckled, “She is reckless. And she is a shit.”

Syviis seethed, “I am not- ah!”

She was cut off by Ryza slapping her across her face. Geralt growled. “You deserve that and much more, brat. You are a shit and you will be punished for leaving in the middle of the fucking night. Aedison was listless, and I…”

“Ryza, please, don’t do this in front of him… please.”

“Oh, I won’t. But when I get you alone you will feel every ounce of regret your body can carry. Understand?”

“...Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Get on with it then. I’ll meet you there.” Ryza walked away with such power and grace that Geralt suddenly missed Yennefer terribly. 

When she was out of earshot, Geralt walked over to Syviis and reached a hand, which she took, and helped her to her feet. “So. ‘Mistress’, huh?”

Syviis buried her head in her hands, “I didn’t even think to warn you, Geralt. I’m not usually embarrassed by it, but you… aw fuck.”

Geralt smiled at her, “No need to be embarrassed. It’s me. You’re talking as if I hadn’t already guessed you may be so inclined.”

She blanched, “You guessed?”

Geralt stared at her blankly, “It’s not as if it’s surprising. Come off it. I could’ve told you you’d wind up this way years ago.”

Syviis’ face screamed red and she looked down, walking tucked into Geralt’s side, as the guard had taken their horses. They were only a few steps behind, and Ryza had disappeared.

She felt tears coming to her eyes, “Geralt… she’s furious. What am I going to do?”

Geralt shrugged, smirking a little, “Take your punishment like a good girl?”

Syviis blanched and shoved away from him, her face somehow turning redder, which Geralt hadn’t thought possible, “Geralt! T-that’s not helping!”

Geralt laughed but didn’t say anything else. He knew he could tease her about this now that she had confided in him, even if she hadn’t meant to at first.


End file.
